


My soul in your arms

by Daughter_of_Scotland



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daughter_of_Scotland/pseuds/Daughter_of_Scotland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' has a secret: He can see dæmons. Dæmons, who aren't actually part of his world, but who he'd never give up, because Castoria is his everything. But then Werewolves and Kanimas happen and suddenly his already-a-bit-supernatural world gets really weird... Especially when it turns out that Derek seems to see Castoria, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My soul in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Teen Wolf Reverse Bang (http://twreversebang.livejournal.com/), to the wonderful art of Faorism (http://faorismwork.tumblr.com/post/40855773075/for-the-tw-reverse-bang-filled-by-calienas). I had real fun writing this!

When Stiles’ mother had still been alive, they used to go on vacation to England every summer.

Stiles’ grandmother lived in Oxford, where she’d been a professor for years, always encouraging Stiles to learn more, be curious, broaden his horizons.

When his mother got sick, Mary Malone – who had never married but had given her daughter a wonderful life anyway – came to Beacon Hills to help them deal.

One day Stiles came back from school, anxious to go to the hospital and be with his mom, and she called him into the guestroom.

“My darling boy,” she said, her voice low and without the cheerfulness he was used to hearing from her. “I have something to teach you, the most important thing I could ever make you learn.”

Stiles looked at the door longingly. “Can’t it wait?” he asked. “I want to go see mom…”

Mary shook her head and took Stiles’ hands in both of hers. “Your father is with her right now; I’ll bring you over after we’re done,” she promised him. “I need you to listen to me now, Kaisa.”

Stiles startled at the use of his real first name – it was weird, and he’d gotten teased for it when he was younger because no one could pronounce it correctly, so he started to call himself Stiles instead – and looked at her.

She smiled at him sadly. “I need to tell you a story.”

 

This was how Stiles learned about dæmons, about strange worlds, about a girl named Lyra and a boy named Will, about Dust and Dark Matter and a witch who had been his grandmother’s friend from another world with a dæmon after which he’d been named.

His mind was reeling after everything his grandmother told him, but it never occurred to him, not even once, that she was lying.

“Can you teach me?” he asked breathlessly. “Can you teach me how to see my dæmon?”

She nodded. “Yes, my dear. You will learn, and whatever might happen to your mom, you’ll never be alone because your dæmon will always be with you.”

And she taught him how to _look_ right, how to squint his eyes just so, until he caught his first glimpse of his own dæmon.

At that time, the first time he saw Castoria – who wasn’t called Castoria at the time yet, Stiles gave his dæmon that name hours later – she was in the form of a beautiful red fox, returning his stare before jumping up on his lap where Stiles lifted a trembling hand to stroke her fur.

“My dæmon,” he whispered and looked at his grandmother, startled to see a bird, glosssy-black with red legs and a curved yellow bill.

“He’s an Alpine chough,” Mary said and stroked the feathers of her dæmon. “You’ll be able to see everyone’s dæmons now, Kaisa, not just your own. But you’re not allowed to touch other people’s dæmons, remember that. Never do that, Kaisa. And don’t tell others about your dæmon, either.” She smiled at the fox who looked up at her. “They won’t ever be able to see them and won’t believe you.”

Stiles nodded, still stroking his dæmon’s fur, as she shifted into a small white dove and fluttered to his shoulder.

Stiles let out a little gasp.

Mary chuckled. “She’ll change appearances until you’ve reached a certain age, then she’ll settle,” she explained. “Into what form I don’t know, but it will be something that fits both of you. She is like an expansion of your soul, a part of you that has been there since you were born and will be with you until you die. You can’t be separated by far, it will hurt you to be, so always keep her close.” She smiled. “And you’ll need to name her, of course.”

Stiles nodded eagerly, reaching up to touch her again.

“You need to find me a pretty name,” his dæmon said in what was clearly a male voice.

Stiles blinked and so did Mary. “How intriguing,” she said and looked at Stiles’ dæmon more closely. “You can also shift your gender?”

The dove shrugged as well as it could and shifted back to the fox. “Is there a difference?” it asked, the voice a female one this time.

Mary looked at Stiles in amazement. “I’ve never heard about this,” she explained. “But I always knew you were special, my darling boy. Male or female, it does not matter. Your dæmon is a part of you and will stay with you until you die. She – or he – will keep you company and share your burden if the worst comes to pass.”

Stiles knew what she was talking about and he swallowed heavily before he hugged his grandmother tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair and she returned the hug before offering him her hand.

“Let’s go to your mother now, darling,” she said, and he nodded, following after her, his dæmon walking beside him just as hers was flying above their heads.

 

***

 

 It’d taken Stiles a while but he’d gotten used to only talking to Castoria in private. Well. His dad and mother knew, of course – his mother almost cried when she realized that Stiles could see her dæmon, a weak-looking falcon, now, too – but no one else did. Not even Scott.

Stiles remembered the warnings, not to tell people about his dæmon, and even though he hated that he couldn’t share her with his best friend – or tell him about his own dæmon – he knew it was for the best.

This knowledge was not supposed to be in this world and he was blessed to know about it.

He wouldn’t sacrifice that just so he could talk to his dæmon in front of others.

He talked to his mother about the last open window between worlds, he listened to her story which she’d tell the harpies who guarded the underworld, so she could go through the last open window between worlds, to become Dust again.  
”And then we’ll see each other again one day,” she promised Stiles and he squeezed her hand, trying to be brave and patient.

When she finally died and her dæmon vanished into thin air, the knowledge that he’d see her again was the only thing that kept him from breaking down. Well. That and Castoria.

 

So Stiles lived his life like any normal teenager, except that he never really was alone.

When he was fifteen, Castoria settled in her final form – a female Utonagan -  a mix of three dog breeds that resembled a wolf.

He would start to see the irony just a few weeks later and also wonder if she’d have really settled as a female if she’d shifted after he saw Derek Hale in the woods that first time.

 

A few weeks after Scott was bitten and their lives had turned from relatively normal to massive freak-out, his best friend sniffed the air in Stiles’ bedroom.

“Something smells weird in here,” he stated, and Stiles blinked.

“What do you mean?” he asked, and Scott frowned.

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “But there’s always this scent around you that’s around no one else… I don’t know what it is.”

Stiles swallowed. “Can you, ah… describe it? Or is it maybe located somewhere specific?”

Scott sniffed again. “Right now it seems to come from your right,” he said and Stiles looked down – directly into Castoria’s wide eyes.

“He can smell me,” the dæmon stated, shocked, and Stiles just shrugged helplessly.

“It smells like… I don’t know… kinda like you but… darker?” Scott shook his head in frustration. “I can’t explain it.”

Stiles coughed. “Well, it’s probably nothing,” he said, doing his best not to stare at Scott’s dæmon, a fuzzy tomcat, that sat at his feet. “Maybe you’re just in sensory overload.”

Scott seemed to accept that, but after he was gone, Stiles immediately called his grandmother.

She listened to his explanations – he’d told her about the werewolves right away, knowing that if anyone would believe him, it was her – and then sighed.

“I can’t really help you with that, darling,” she said. “I can only imagine that, because you can see Dust, the matter d _æ_ mons and we are made of, it manifests stronger around you, and that’s what he’s smelling. If he were able to smell dæmons in general, he would be able to smell others and his own, not just you. So it’s just more proof that you’re special.”

Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to be special anymore if it meant that he’d always smell weird to werewolves.

 

***

 

When Stiles first saw Derek that day in the woods, he was terrified. Not because of Derek, not really, but of the fact that he had _no d_ _æmon_. Stiles didn’t know what to think about that until the whole werewolf thing became clearer. Maybe, for born werewolves, their dæmon was always a part of them, their wolf. Stiles thought this was probably the easiest way to explain why Derek and Peter both missed their dæmons and Mary agreed.

Stiles didn’t tell his grandmother everything he went through with Scott and the others, of course; he didn’t want to scare her. Castoria often pleaded with him to just go away, to leave, to not endanger them in that way all the time, but Stiles couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Scott, he explained to her time and time again. He didn’t even notice when his explanations started to include Derek, Isaac, and the rest of the pack as the year went on. In the end, she stopped asking him and just continued to be at his side.

When he was attacked by Gerard Argent, she even tried to help him by attacking the man’s dæmon – a hissing scorpion – but it was no use. Apparently, if you weren’t aware of your dæmon, his pain didn’t reach you either. It was a pity, really, Stiles thought as he limped home with bruises on his face and body, wishing for the first time that he’d listened to Castoria and left the werewolf business behind.

 

Castoria always seemed to stray closer to Derek when he was in his wolf form. She couldn’t explain it, really, but she felt... safe with him in those moments. Stiles figured his theory about the wolf being Derek’s dæmon was pretty close, which largely diminished his fear of the other man. Not Peter though; that guy would always be creepy. That night in the parking garage Castoria almost barked herself into a frenzy to no avail and Stiles had never been so scared. Not even that night in the school and that had been pretty terrifying.

 

Of course then came the Kanima a.k.a. Jackson (and Stiles wasn’t even surprised, actually. Jackson’s dæmon was a fucking snake. But it also seemed to vanish whenever Jackson transformed into the Kanima, and that was another kind of crazy Stiles didn’t even want to think about) and all bets for terrifying were, once again, off. Stiles wondered if he’d ever be able to catch a break.

 

There was one thing that _really_ freaked Stiles out though, and it wasn’t even anything life threatening.

No, it was the fact that Derek seemed to be able to sense, if not see, Castoria.

At first it was nothing; he ignored her like everyone else did. But then Stiles would notice him sniffing the air around him a bit longer than usual, and Stiles would remember how Scott told him he smelled different.

He didn’t comment on it, just decided to ignore it. There was no way Derek would be able to really _see_ Castoria after all. Even though he couldn’t stop the treacherous voice in his head telling him how _awesome_ that would be.

But then the pool happened.

 

Castoria cried frantically when Stiles jumped after Derek into the water and prepared to jump after him.

“Stay out!” Stiles yelled as soon as he and Derek were above the water again. “Just stay out there!”

Castoria shook her head but listened, looking at the Kanima carefully before sitting down on the edge, her eyes switching between Stiles and the monster.

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Derek asked, and Stiles swallowed.

“Forget it,” he mumbled and tread water to keep them both afloat.

“Please, please, let him drown!” Castoria cried. “Come out, we can run away, please!”

“I won’t let him drown,” Stiles answered through gritted teeth and didn’t even acknowledge Derek’s sarcastic “thanks”.

The space between them wasn’t too big, but Stiles felt an uncomfortable pull nonetheless when he drifted too far away from his dæmon and it tore at his strength.

When he tried to go for his phone, Castoria jumped in front of the monster, trying to delay it just a bit so Stiles could get back into the pool safely.

But in the end it didn’t even matter because Scott, as per usual lately, ignored him, and he had to act fast to save Derek from drowning.

 

Hours passed, and Stiles wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this.

“It hurts,” he whispered and heard Castoria’s answering whimper from the edge. “Castoria... It hurts...”

He looked over at his dæmon, and she didn’t move at all anymore, just lay at the edge, panting softly.

“Where does it hurt?” Derek asked, and when Stiles ignored him, repeated himself louder. “Stiles! Are you hurt? What’s going on?”

Stiles swallowed. “Nothing, Derek,” he bit out. “Just ignore me; you can’t help anyway.”

He was angry about Derek’s still active distrust of him, angrier than he thought he would be, and certainly didn’t want to explain to the werewolf how he felt the separation of his dæmon. He had thought about asking her to come into the water, too, but Castoria wasn’t the best swimmer, and it might just make them sink faster. Or let her touch Derek on accident, and he didn’t want to risk that either.

With his last strength, he brought them closer to the edge, trying to grip the handle on the block. When he lost his grip, he was sure that was it, he’d drown in his school’s pool with Derek freaking Hale in his arms – but, as usual, Scott came just in time to save the day.

Stiles was safe and could barely wait to be alone to hug Castoria tightly and cry into her fur, exhausted, scared and just so, so tired.

 

***

 

There wasn’t much quiet time from there on out, not enough to give Stiles a chance to actively think about the weird looks Derek gave him, how his eyes seemed to linger on the spot where Castoria was sitting, how sometimes he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something just to close it again. He also couldn’t stop to think about how he always noticed when Derek looked at him. Like he practically felt it burning his skin.

Life went on, terrors came and went, and Stiles never got a break.

 

But then summer happened, and even though the Alpha pack seemed a real threat for a while, it was just _peaceful_ , no hunters, no attacks. Only Derek and Peter trying to train Isaac, Jackson, and even Scott, later adding Erica and Boyd after they came back, talking in hushed voices about what they’d seen and keeping close to Derek, whom they had accepted as their Alpha for real at last.

Stiles and Lydia spent the training sessions pouring over the books they had liberated from Deaton’s empty office, trying to find protection spells they might be able to use in their defences.

Life was still weird, but it was quiet. And of course it didn’t last long.

 

***

 

Stiles woke up with a start as he heard Castoria bark loudly. He scrambled up in his bed and his eyes immediately landed on Derek who was standing in front of his bed, swaying slightly.

“What the fuck, Derek?” Stiles grunted. “You can’t just –“

He was interrupted as Derek’s knees buckled, and he fell headfirst onto the bed.

Stiles screeched and got up as fast as he could, turning Derek on his back and looking him over frantically.

“Holy shit, Derek, what happened, what’s – Oh fuck.”

Derek’s chest was practically _ripped open_ , his shirt hanging in tatters; in some places it seemed stuck to the deep claw marks that seemed to heal way too slowly.

Stiles swallowed, and without another word, went to his closet for the emergency first aid kit he’d stashed there.

He flicked on the lights, glad his dad had the night shift and wouldn’t wake up no matter what, and then he wondered where to start.

“You should call the others,” Castoria urged him. “They’ll know how to take care of him; what if you do something wrong, what if his attackers _come here,_ what –“

“Shut up!” Stiles ordered through gritted teeth and bent down, carefully cutting the remains off Derek’s shirt of him.

“Haven’t said anything,” Derek slurred, and Stiles looked up sharply, noticing the older man watching him through slitted eyes.

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Stiles answered shortly, and after removing the shirt, started dabbing at the blood to see the extent of the wounds. It said a lot about their extent that Stiles didn’t even stop to admire Derek’s abs as he usually did when he saw him shirtless. “What happened?”

“Alpha pack,” Derek answered around a grunt, his hands fisting the sheets in obvious pain. “Attacked me… Out of nowhere… Had to run…”

Stiles nodded and made a distressed sound as he finally could see all of the wounds. “You’re lucky you’re still alive,” he said darkly, and Castoria whined, so he put a hand on her head absentmindedly. He didn’t notice how Derek’s eyes fixated on that movement.

“Why did you come here? Wouldn’t your betas be safer?”

Derek groaned. “Too far… Your house… You… It’s safe.”

Stiles looked up at him, stunned at that response, and licked his lips. “Right,” he said hoarsely and cleared his throat. “Okay. I’ll just… I… God, I don’t know what to do,” he ended with a hysterical laugh.

Derek’s hand wound around Stiles’ wrist. “You’ll be okay,” he told him, clearly putting more strength into the words than he had at the moment. “Just… Bandage it. You don’t need… No need to stitch it up. Just a bandage and…  Some rest. I’ll be fine.”

Stiles swallowed but nodded as Castoria shook her head. The boy reached for the bandages and got started as Derek’s hand fell away. His wrist felt suddenly cold.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Stiles repeated. “I’ll make sure you are. We won’t leave you alone.”

“What if he dies in your bed?” Castoria asked, watching the werewolf warily. “How will you explain that?”

“He won’t die!” Stiles snapped, glaring at her. “He won’t!”

Castoria shut up as Stiles continued to work, carefully lifting Derek off the bed to bandage his whole torso.

“You’re always… Talking to someone,” Derek slurred, and Stiles shivered as his breath ghosted over his ear. Derek’s head was on his shoulders, and if this were any other situation someone would think they were hugging.

“I don’t like silence,” he answered carefully, but Derek shook his head lightly. “No… Not like that…”

He was quiet for so long that Stiles was sure he had fallen asleep, but then his voice was back.

“At the pool… There was… It seemed like someone was there with you,” he breathed out. “And sometimes… Sometimes I think I see…”

He stopped, and Stiles let him glide back on the bed gently, done with the bandages. He looked at Derek’s face closely. “You think you see what? Derek?”

Castoria inched closer, and Derek’s eyes opened again, landing directly on her. “There’s something there,” he said clearly before he finally fell asleep.

Stiles was left rooted to the spot, wondering what just happened before he shook himself out of it enough to clear out the bloodied tissues and get Derek completely on the bed.

He then proceeded to text Peter (and that he’d ever end up having that Creeper’s number was a constant scource of surprise) about what had happened, and the other man promised to inform the pack.

Then, ever so carefully, Stiles climbed into bed beside Derek, leaving as big a space between them as he could, and fell into a restless sleep.

 

When Stiles woke up the next time, it was to his dad knocking on his door. He almost jumped out of his skin and looked around wildly for Derek, but the werewolf was apparently gone.

Stiles felt a hint of disappointment at that but got up and opened the door for his dad obediently.

“Hey,” he greeted him, and his dad smiled. “What’s up?”

“Sorry for waking you,” the man said, “I have to go grocery shopping and wanted to know if you need anything. Morning, Castoria,” he added, smiling down. Stiles didn’t tell him that Castoria was sitting on his other side, just smiled and thought about the question for a moment, then ordered a few ingredients for dinner and was finally able to close the door again.

He sagged against it with a sigh just as his closet door opened, and Derek practically fell out of it.

“Holy shit!” Stiles exclaimed and moved over to help him back to the bed. “Dude, you hid in _the closet_?”

Derek groaned. “Where else was I supposed to hide?” he asked, rubbing his chest and wincing. “I heard him come up the stairs. Didn’t want him to find me in your bed. Especially not when you’re barely clothed.”

Stiles looked down at himself and blushed as he realized he was only wearing his boxers. He hadn’t even noticed that last night. But, well. He’d been preoccupied then.

Now he just moved to his dresser and fished out a shirt, pulling it on awkwardly.

When his head emerged, he caught Derek’s eyes which were glued to the spot next to him. Stiles looked down, and sure enough, Castoria was sitting there, returning Derek’s stare.

“Derek?” Stiles asked carefully, and the werewolf blinked before shaking his head.

“Sorry. I thought I saw… Nevermind.”

Stiles licked his lips and moved closer to the bed. “You think you saw what?” he repeated his question from last night, and Derek’s eyes narrowed.

“Why are you sounding like there is something to see?” He frowned. “Who’s Castoria?”

Stiles choked on air, and Castoria let out a surprised bark which made Derek’s head whip around the room in apparent confusion.

“Impossible,” Stiles muttered but was saved from explaining himself by a knock on the window.

Peter was crouching there, and Stiles moved to let him in. The man didn’t even look at him, instead focussed on Derek, making sure he was okay.

They talked for a moment, too low for Stiles to hear anything, and then Derek stood up. “Thanks for your help, Stiles,” he said stiffly. “I have to talk to the pack. We have to make plans for further attacks.”

Stiles nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, I get it. I can drive you?”

Peter shook his head before Derek could answer. “I brought the car,” he said. “It’s better if he’s with someone stronger right now, in case they attack again.”

Stiles understood that, but it still hurt a bit. “Oh. Right.”

Derek looked at him for a second and then sighed. “Why don’t you collect Lydia and meet with us back at the house?” he said. “This concerns the whole pack, not just the werewolves.”

Stiles immediately brightened up and nodded, ignoring Castoria’s snort that was just as amused as Peter’s laugh at the whole display.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll be there in a bit.”

Derek nodded and followed Peter out of the window which Stiles locked after him.

He looked at Castoria who returned his stare. “He could hear you,” Stiles stated numbly, and his dæmon nodded.

“Yes. And I think sometimes he can even see me. Why is that?”

Stiles didn’t know either, but he decided to ask the one person who maybe had a clue. With a sigh, he got dressed completely and then called his grandmother.

 

***

 

Mary promised to think about the whole thing but didn’t have any answers for Stiles right away, so he left to pick up Lydia.

The girl paled as he told her about the last night, though she grinned at him when he mentioned that Derek had slept in his bed. “I’m surprised you actually got any sleep,” she teased, and Stiles blushed hotly.

“Shut up,” he groaned. “I wish I’d never told you about –“

“Your crush?” she interrupted him dryly. “The fact that you get hot when you think about him? That you want him to be in your bed _all the time_?”

Stiles swatted at her, and she laughed. He really started to regret becoming her friend.

 

When they arrived at the house the pack was already there and listening to Derek as he explained what had happened the night before. Isaac sat close to Stiles, bumping their shoulders in obvious thanks for his care of their Alpha. Stiles smiled, and Castoria let out a content huff.

“We need to prepare for the chance that they attack again,” Derek said. “None of us can run around alone anymore. We need to be on our guard at all times.”

The group talked about possible ways to spend time together as much as possible on their different ways home, and Stiles and Lydia shared some of the simpler protection spells they’d practiced.

“They won’t work with anyone who isn’t with us though,” Stiles explained, frustrated. “Like, I can’t perform a general protection charm, only make sure we’re safe when we’re all in the same spot and don’t move much. That doesn’t really help.”

Boyd frowned. “Can’t you maybe… Protect objects? Like, put charms on the cars and such?”

Lydia and Stiles shared a look. “We can try,” the girl said carefully. “We could try to make barriers so if you’re in danger you jump into a car and it’ll work as a safe place for a while. I’ll look into it.”

Derek nodded and looked at Stiles expectantly.

“I ordered more Mountain Ash.” Stiles shrugged. “It should be here tomorrow. I know how to work with it now; I’ve had practice. In a pinch I can… Trap them or us, depends on the situation.”

“That’s good,” Derek assured him and ran a hand through his hair. “If one of you gets stucky you call us and wait, okay? We need to attack as a pack; there’s strength in numbers – alone you’ll just end up dead.”

Castoria let out an agreeing whine, and Derek’s eyes flitted over to her. Stiles tried to ignore it, and the other man looked away again after a bit.

“Tonight’s the full moon,” he continued. “We’ll be meeting here an hour before sun down. We’ll run together; no one’s staying alone.” He looked at Scott in particular, who grumbled, and then continued to the two humans. “You two will come, too, and stay in the house. Create a ring of Mountain Ash, and close it if someone comes near you who isn’t one of us. Or if it seems as if one of us loses control.”

They shared a look but nodded.

“I’m sure you’ll keep your puppies occupied enough,” Stiles joked. “They won’t even think of attacking us when they have you to chase.”

Growls rang through the house, but Stiles swore he could see a smile on Derek’s face, and he flushed a bit before getting up.

“Well, if that’s all, I have to go home; see you tonight!”

He almost fled to his car, knowing his friends were confused about his behavior. And yes, it might have been a bit much to just run out because he almost popped a boner when Derek _smiled_ at him but he was really confused and needed some time to think.

 

***

 

“Did you finally figure it out?”

Stiles stared at Castoria, feeling utterly betrayed. “You _knew_?” he cried. “All this time?”

She shrugged and lay down on his bed. “Well, for a while, at least,” she answered, sounding bored. “At first you were only attracted to the way he looks, but it soon became more. I wondered when you’d realize it.”

Stiles groaned and sat down on his desk chair heavily. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, and Castoria grinned. “Oh, but that wouldn’t have been very fun.”

He buried his head in his hands. “You asked me to let him die numerous times,” he accused her.

“As if you’d ever do it,” she disregarded his words and closed her eyes. “But I still think it would have made our lives easier.”

Stiles didn’t answer, just thought back to everything that had happened between him and Derek in the last few months, how he’d felt.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m in love with him.”

Castoria snorted, already half asleep. “Yeah, you idiot, of course you are.”

 

***

 

Mary called him back about an hour before he had to leave for the Hale house.

“I talked to Will, dearest,” she told him in her soft voice. “He had an idea how it could be that your friend can see Castoria.”

Stiles waited for her to continue but was only met with silence. “Well?” he prompted, and she laughed quietly.

“Oh, it’s not so easy for me to say, dear one,” she answered, clearly amused. “You see, Will thinks that your friends’ ability to sense Castoria has to do with their, ah… Feelings for you.”

Stiles blinked and thought that over for a bit before he understood what she was saying. Then he squeaked. “You mean… No!”

Her laugh got louder. “Well, he thinks that Scott is able to sense and smell Castoria because you’re his best friend, he knows you so well and cares for you. If this… Derek… Is able to even see her…”

She didn’t finish, but Stiles knew what she was saying, and he felt himself growing hot, and his pants suddenly felt tighter.

“You think he might have… Feelings for me,” he choked out. “I mean real feelings.”

Mary gave an affirmitive hum. “Does this distress you, Kaisa? I didn’t think it would…”

Stiles spluttered. “Oh my _god_ , did everyone know before me?”

His grandmother’s laughter mixed with Castoria’s, and Stiles sulked for a bit. But then he realized what this could mean.

“So he might like me, too,” he said in wonder and Mary was clearly smiling as she assured him that that would be the case.

Stiles hung up in a daze and then went upstairs to methodically pack his bag. Castoria didn’t even say anything, just let him go on with it and think.

 

Fifteen minutes before he had to leave, Stiles was lying on his bed, a hand shoved down his boxers and his head thrown back.

Castoria was on the ground, panting harshly while Stiles worked his cock furiously, images of Derek – shirtless but not bleeding this time – flying through his head. He thought about running his tongue over those damn abs, following the light dusting of hair down, down until he could wrap his lips around Derek’s cock, licking and sucking it. He imagined Derek breathing louder, whimpering, his hands on Stiles’ head to make him move faster, getting more desperate until he _begged_ Stiles to just let him cum, please, just let him –

Stiles finished with a cry, spilling over his hand and staining his boxers.

It took him a while, but when he controlled his breathing again, he sat up, his head swimming.

“I need to change,” he sighed and did just that, finishing just in time to leave for the Hale house.

He really hoped no one would comment on the fact that he might still smell like cum and arousal.

 

***

 

Thankfully his friends had mercy on him, though Derek gave him an odd look, and Peter leered at him which Stiles reacted to with a full body shudder.

Lydia and Stiles set up camp on the front porch, wanting to be in sight of the woods, blankets and tea in thermoses at the ready. Derek also brought them some big flashlights so they could read if they wanted.

Stiles made the circle of Ash large enough for them to sit comfortably in and left a part of it open, ready to be closed whenever needed. Castoria snuggled in beside him when he settled down, Lydia at his other side, while the wolves gathered on the grass to change.

Derek went first, changing into his Alpha form which, unlike Peter’s, was an actual wolf, black and huge. Stiles’ breath caught as he watched him stretch his limbs, and even Lydia was able to hear his rapid heart beat.

The betas all shifted, too, and then they took off.

Stiles stared after them, longing to be able to follow, to run with them, play with them, fall under the spell of the moon –

“Where are you going?”

Stiles stopped, almost standing, and looked back at her with wide eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered and settled back down.

She watched him closely. “Are you thinking of asking for the bite?” she asked bluntly, and he paled.

“No!” he said without hesitation. “I don’t want to be turned. I just…”

He looked out into the woods again and listened to the howls ringing through the air. “I just wish I could run with them.”

She smiled wistfully. “You can,” she assured him. “You are. In our hearts and theirs we’re always with them.”

He stared at her, his mouth open. “That was the most beautiful description of pack I’ve ever heard,” he told her, and she blushed, but her smile widened.

“Shut up, you know it’s true. But I’m sure Derek wishes you could be at his side while he runs, too.”

It was Stiles’ turn to blush, and they settled in relative quiet, pages rustling as they tried to read more on protection spells while the night wore on and the wolves prowled the woods.

 

***

 

Lydia had long since fallen asleep, Castoria, too, and Stiles was barely able to keep his eyes open when there was a rustling in the woods before them.

He was on high alert immediately and gripped the bag of Ash tightly, ready to close the circle as he scanned the tree lines.

A wolf came out and moved towards them, and Stiles recognized Derek after just a second.

Castoria was wide awake again and stood, moving closer.

“Is he gonna attack us?” she asked, but Stiles shook his head.

“Derek would never hurt us,” he told her, conviction clear in his voice, and Derek let out a low rumble, clearly pleased.

He stopped before the line of Ash and settled down, watching Stiles with his red eyes, unblinking. Stiles relaxed and returned the gaze, holding it for a minute before baring his throat in submission.

Derek whined lowly, approvingly.

Suddenly, Castoria was moving towards him, and Stiles stared after her.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, scrambling after her. She sent him a look.

“Stay put,” she ordered, and he did so, watching her move closer and closer to Derek who was close enough to not put a strain on their bond.

Derek looked from Stiles to the air before him, sniffing deeply.

He let out another whine, and then Stiles felt as if he was punched in the chest as Castoria rubbed her head against Derek’s.

He fell to his knees, grasping his chest, and stared at the sight before him, his dæmon nuzzling Derek who was frozen to the spot but slowly turned his head and licked her face and muzzle, as if he could really see her.

Tears ran down Stiles’ face, and he felt breathless; there was not enough air in his lungs to say anything while his dæmon, his Castoria, touched someone else.

He had to rethink his theory about the wolf being like a dæmon. It had never felt like this when Castoria had touched his mother’s dæmon or his grandmother’s. This must be what it felt like to touch another person.

“Castoria,” he finally gasped out, and her head flew around, a distressed sound coming from her throat before she bound back to him, letting him hug her, nuzzling him.

Derek stood and walked closer while Stiles stared up at him with wide eyes that still leaked tears.

Suddenly there was a tongue on his face, licking him, licking the salt off his cheeks, and Stiles closed his eyes with a whimper before he fell forward, burying his face in Derek’s fur.

He fell asleep wedged between Derek and Castoria, warm and content and _safe_.

 

***

 

He woke up with a start as his pillow suddenly _moved_.

Stiles’ head whipped up, and he looked directly into Derek’s face. Derek who stared at him with wide eyes. That’s when Stiles realized he was lying on Derek. A very _naked_ Derek.

“Oh my god,” he spit out and scrambled up, turning around to give the man some privacy.

Derek made a choked off sound and moved to grab the clothes he’d left on the porch the night before, getting dressed in a hurry.

Lydia was already gone, Stiles noted, and the sun was pretty high in the sky. When he checked his phone his eyes widened.

“Dude, it’s nine am! The others must have left already; why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

“Because I was asleep myself,” Derek growled out as he zipped up his jeans. “They must have let us sleep; I don’t know why. God, this was stupid, we could have gotten attacked, we –“

He stopped in his tracks and looked at the circle of Mountain Ash around them.

“Did you close the circle last night?”

Stiles looked at it, too and got up. “No,” he answered slowly. “Lydia must have done it, to make sure we were safe while we were sleeping.”

He swallowed, looking back at Derek. “What do you think? Did you shift back before your pack came here?”

Derek paled. The thought of his whole pack seeing him naked and vulnerable wasn’t very appealing. “I don’t know,” he spit out. “Open the circle, Stiles.”

Stiles hurried to obey, and once the barrier was broken, Derek stepped out of it, shaking himself a little.

That sign of obvious unease made Stiles remember the night before, and he let out a little gasp, his hand landing on Castoria’s head as she looked between the two of them.

“Derek…” Stiles breathed out, and it sounded broken even to his own ears.

The werewolf stiffened before he turned around slowly. His eyes fixated on Stiles’ face before he took a deep breath and looked down, fixating on Castoria.

“Can you… See her?” Stiles asked, barely breathing.

When Derek nodded, Stiles felt his knees buckling, and he would have crashed to the ground if Derek hadn’t reacted and caught him.

Stiles was shaking in his arms. “Oh god,” he whimpered. “Oh god, you can see her… You can… No one but my Gran’s left who can… Oh my god… You _touched_ her!”

Derek held Stiles while he breathed, fighting down the panic attack.

“Technically, she touched me first,” the werewolf murmured, and Stiles laughed weakly while Castoria pressed against him tightly.

“I know, I saw it,” the boy answered, swallowing and finally relaxing in Derek’s arms. “I just… I was taught to never let anyone touch her. And it felt… God…”

“Did it hurt you?” Derek asked, pushing him back to search his face. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Stiles shook his head and smiled at him. “No,” he denied, and Derek visibly relaxed. “It’s not like that. It’s…” He frowned. “I felt as if I couldn’t breathe,” he tried to explain. “But not like a panic attack. It was… Warm.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how to describe it.”

Derek returned his smile with a small one of his own and pulled him close again. “As long as you’re not hurt it’s okay,” he said. “So… Will you explain it to me? What exactly _is_ she?“

Stiles huffed out a laugh. “That will take a while,” he said dryly. “Wanna take it inside?”

He blushed as he said it, knowing Derek might misunderstand…

Derek’s smile widened though. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

They gathered their things, and Derek held the door open for Stiles and his dæmon before going inside himself.

His hand stroked over Castoria’s head without even looking at her, and a shiver ran down Stiles’ spine at the feeling and Castoria’s happy sound.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Derek misunderstood…

He tangled his fingers with Derek’s, squeezing them tightly and answering Derek’s smile with his own.

Derek could see Castoria, and when he touched her, everything felt better, _sharper_.

Stiles touching Derek himself now seemed just as easy as breathing. Because the werewolf had touched Stiles’ soul, and they had only come out of it stronger.


End file.
